


A Clowder of Cats

by handahbear



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cats, Fluff, Fourth Prize, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:58:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handahbear/pseuds/handahbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan may or may not have been hiding something from Courfeyrac. That something may or may not be a half dozen cats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Clowder of Cats

**Author's Note:**

> For Lexie (schoolboysinthebarricade.) Fourth prize winner of my fic giveaway. For the prompt: Jehan buys all the cats.

Courfeyrac was becoming suspicious. Jehan wouldn’t let him into their bedroom, claiming that he was “redecorating.” Quite frankly, he was becoming rather tired of sleeping on the couch. It was rather cramped, with the two of them lying side by side. After a week and a half, he decided he couldn’t take it anymore, and when Jehan left to work his shift at the café, Courfeyrac seized his chance to enter the bedroom.

At least a dozen yellow, green, and orange eyes turned to look at him upon his entry. Cats. Everywhere. At least half a dozen of them. Curled up on the floor, the bed, the top of the vanity that Jehan had restored, the nightstand. A little black cat with green eyes padded up to him, sniffed his shoes, and walked away, apparently satisfied with its findings. A brown and gray tabby yawned and rolled over onto Courfeyrac’s pillow. A long-haired, tawny colored kitten leapt off of the bed and made its way over to Courfeyrac, winding its way around his legs, rubbing its face against his shins.

He bent down, absentmindedly rubbing it behind its ears, taking in the fact that Jehan had been hiding half a dozen cats in their room without telling him. Not only was he hiding them, but he had managed to smuggle them in to the apartment undetected and feed them, water them, and provide them with litter boxes, all without Courfeyrac noticing anything of the sort. Where was he getting them? Had he bought them? Adopted them? Picked them up off the streets? He would have to ask him when he returned. 

What was he going to do now? He couldn’t just walk away and pretend that there wasn’t a herd of cats in their bedroom. They were being well taken care of, he noticed. There were three bowls of dry kibble and two small plates of wet food, four bowls of fresh water, and three litter boxes. Stuffed mice and shiny balls littered the floor. Blankets were piled in the corner and Jehan had somehow gotten ahold of a small cat bed, where an orange cat with a slightly mangled ear slept on, undisturbed by Courfeyrac’s presence. 

The tawny kitten nipped playfully at Courfeyrac’s fingers before darting away. He sat down on the floor, watching the kitten engage an older, ivory colored cat in play. What was he going to say to Jehan? He couldn’t ask him to get rid of the cats, he just couldn’t. He could picture all too easily Jehan’s face, lines appearing on his smooth forehead, lower lip trembling slightly as he pleaded with Courfeyrac to allow him to keep them. But six cats seemed a bit excessive. It had to be expensive, didn’t it? Cat food, cat litter, veterinarian bills. 

A gray and white cat with a bobbed tail sniffed Courfeyrac’s knee, batting at his hand with one paw, nosing at his leg, begging to be petted. Courfeyrac gave in, stroking over soft fur. He did like cats. It wasn’t like Jehan had been hiding tarantulas or venomous snakes or poison dart frogs. Cats were likeable. A little aloof, maybe, sometimes grouchy, but ultimately likeable. Courfeyrac stood, giving the gray and white cat one final stroke. He couldn’t just sit here all day, waiting for Jehan to come back. He left the door to their bedroom open, wanting to allow the cats a chance to get used to the rest of the apartment, and went about his day as usual, even if he was interrupted by one or more of the felines at every turn.

Courfeyrac’s favorite was the little tawny kitten. It followed him around the house, jumping on the kitchen counters, exploring the top of the coffee table, and nearly upsetting the vase in the hallway. The ivory colored cat dozed on the sofa, curled up in the corner, tail covering her tiny pink nose. 

Courfeyrac had settled in his favorite armchair with the orange cat curled in his lap, feet resting on the coffee table, where the tawny kitten was waging war on a magazine, when Jehan returned home. Talking a mile a minute as always, Jehan didn’t notice the cats, or Courfeyrac, to be honest, until he finally finished ridding himself of his bag, boots, and coat. His scarf was halfway unwound when he stopped abruptly, frozen in place. Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow, smiling softly, waiting for Jehan to say something.

“I can explain.”

“’I’m looking forward to it,” Courfeyrac laughed, stroking the cat in his lap behind its ears.

“Look, I…well, I went to a pet store with Gavroche and Eponine because she promised him a goldfish if he passed all his classes and they had these cats, you know, ones from the shelter, and they all looked so sad, you know, just so unhappy, and, well…I couldn’t just take one of them, because, well, what about the rest? So, I just, you know, talked to the woman working there and worked it out so that I could have all six and just pick them up one at a time, every day for a week. And I paid for them, and they really weren’t that expensive, I swear, and they’re all up to date on their shots and they’re all spayed and neutered, so we don’t have to pay for that, and they’re all healthy, and cat food isn’t as expensive as you might think, but please, please don’t be angry. I was going to tell you, I swear, I was just trying to find the right way to tell you…”

“I’m not angry!” Courfeyrac exclaimed, surprised. “I was slightly alarmed when I found six cats hiding out in our bedroom, but I was never angry. Not even for a minute.”

“Really? I know it was stupid, it was an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment idea, but…I just couldn’t leave them. They might’ve been…well…you never know…the shelter they came from…I know it wasn’t one that doesn’t kill any of their animals, and some of them were older, like the one you’re holding, and I couldn’t bear to think that…”

“Have you named them yet?”

“I…I thought maybe we could do that together…I was waiting, you see…I wanted you to be…to be a part of it, I guess…”

“What do you think of the name Louis, for that scamp on the table?”

“Only if we can name the one in your lap Mercutio.” 

Courfeyrac sighed dramatically. “Fair is fair.”

Courfeyrac and Jehan ended up with Louis, the tawny kitten; Mercutio, the orange cat with the ragged ear; Ophelia, the stately ivory feline; Mina, the tiny black cat; Tybalt, the bob-tailed cat; and Antony, the tabby. Grantaire made affectionate jokes about Jehan being a crazy cat person, and Combeferre teased Courfeyrac for being too soft.

Of course, their apartment complex did not allow pets, but they would cross that bridge when they came to it.


End file.
